when Jason saw Leon walk in he thought what now? Then when Leon finished speaking and the reef cracked and the floor started to shift Jason grabbed all the stuff he had gathered and hurrying after Leon and Eddie hoping they would get to the raft soon, because with Jason recent bad luck streak he wouldn't be surprised if a giant trans-gender octopus-man came out of the water and stepped on the yacht with him still on it.

((I'm just jumping in, you guys, so it'll take a while to recap before I end up catching up to the present.))

Barise had never been quite the sociable type. She was a recluse and a bookworm who always stayed up late at night geeking out on the computer or studying for her college exams. She may have been apprenticed to a professional caterer, but she never expected to have to cater to an event all by herself in attendance to a party amidst a throng of people she knew nothing about. Of course she had heard of a smalltown guy getting lucky with the lottery , but she never imagined she would have anything to do with such events.Barise had been on the floor throughout the event, passing out h'orderves on a tray and generally avoiding talking to people. When she wasn't offering trays of food on the floor, she was behind a table, monitoring the food and drinks, generally making sure that nothing was drugged or otherwise inappropriately tampered with. It wasn't, however, like she ate any herself; she was much too nervous that she wouldn't have been able to keep any of it down.As the storn rolled in and orders were given to retreat inside from the storm, she had no choice but to follow and manage a table of food inside, even, at times, moving back into the kitchen to work hands-on with the food preparation. The kitchen was her only solace as when a crowd of people moved to less open spaces, her claustrophobia kicked in. The kitchen was less dense with people, plus she was able to work directly with the food which always pleased her.Needless to say, Barise didn't talk much to anyone and was one of the first people on the lifeboats when called for, grabbing her small purse and cramping with a lot of strangers, fighting for leg room. At least the sky was open which calmed her nerves a bit.While on the beach, Barise mostly kept to herself, seeing as how she knew no one and hadn't trully met anyone all the while. She wasn't out of sight, but she didn't doubt that she was out of mind and, as of yet, not tempted to go anywhere. She hadn't been one of the few to set up shelters, but she had been one of the many to get into one even though she sat toward the outside so as not to feel crowded. She watched everyone's movements around her including how people ran off into the forest and along the beach by themselves. She herself could build a fire and cook, but there wasn't much else she was good for.

Jason and Eddie hand the bags they found to the men aboard the raft before starting to get on themselves. Beneath their feet the reef lets out one last groan followed by a series of snaps and cracks and the yacht beneath them starts to drop.

They jump from yacht to raft and are helped aboard be Leon and the other crewman. Reggie, sady, is still within the cabin when it goes down. They can hear him screaming from inside.

"Get out of there!" Leon shouts to him, but he either doesn't hear or doesn't understand. He continues to scream as the yacht sinks lower and lower still; his cries finally muted when the yacht is completely submerged.

"Let's move," Leon says; sitting back down and gripping the oars. We need to get out of here before the undertow grabs us and drags us down with the yacht.

The Beach

"I did a lot of things," Rick tells the stripper. "And now I don't have to do anything. We just need to get rescued, I guess." He takes a deep drag from the cigarette and walks off without another word, leaving Fe alone under the shade of the palm.

He heads in the direction of the Captain, intent on finding out what the man planned to do about rescue.

Brandon, crawling back to the source of what tripped him up digs a little in the sand until he finds it. It feels like old wood, old heavy wood; and a long plank at that. When at last he pulls it up from beneath the sand he discovers it to be an old rifle.

Tripping and stumbling along through the dense tropical region, branches and thorned weeds scraping and cutting at his arms and legs; James finally bursts through to an open area. He stops when he sees the length of sand stretching out into the ocean, a lone palm tree drooping down over the sand.

He stands there for a moment, looking out at the ocean when he hears voices from not too far off. Turning his head in the direction of the sound, he sees a good sized group of people mostly lounging on the beach a few hundred yards off.

Tony, moving at a light jog, soon returns to the other survivors on the beach. He sees his cousin Rick walking toward the Captain; both of whom he wants to speak with.

Despite having been rejected earlier by others, now that she’s chosen to seclude herself, she wants no intrusions what.so.EVER. This black Brit needs to take a hike.

“If it’s all the same to you, mate, I got beat to all hell last night by that storm and I’m not in the mood to tell you no means no. So get outta here or I’ll scream and tell anyone who listens you tried to rape me. Cheerio!”

With that, Chryssa flips him the bird, turns away and continues on down the beach.

When Jason got on the raft and the yacht went down he heard the screams of one of the men who came with them. Jason felt bad for him and his family for a second, then Leon said something about an undertow. Jason didn't know anything about undertows but the grabbing and dragging them part made them sound REALLY bad so Jason grabbed one of the oars and started to paddle with all his might even though he was getting a little tired from all the work he had done earlier on the shelters.

Huh? Well, seems as if he's not interested in conversation much. Fe shrugged it off as Rick ended the conversation and walked off. She continues to suck down the smoke and other toxins in her cigarette before she decides to get up and walk back to the make-shift camp. At least she got Rick in the right mood, the go-getter attitude that she was sure he normally has. Fe shoves her hands into her pockets as she walks and stumbles into Rick's ex acting a complete fool again. One man decides to help her, and she freaks? Fe chuckles and shakes her head as she passes by, then looks around at all the people. Lots were taking shelter from the sun or just hiding from the others. Most had never been in a situation like this, and didn't know what to do. Felicia had been surviving her whole life.

She sighs again as she finds shade that's mostly away from everyone, but close enough to hear the conversations. If she had finished college, she would have been an anthropologist. A studier of people and their culture, their actions, their reactions and so forth. People are interesting creatures, especially in times like this. She smiles softly to herself, as she watches everyone, her mind wandering as a slight breeze rolls over her exposed legs and arms. Her blonde wig is tousled about as the breeze rolls in, the waves crashing makes a brilliant chorus to the verse of hushed, worried whispers.

Eddie paddled hard and silently thanked his father for taking him on so many kayaking trips when he was younger. He realized that Reggie hadn't gotten out of the ship and he didnt feel very bad. One less mouth to feed.

As Brandon takes a closer look at the gun. He realizes it is a m91, as most call of duty fans or gun buffs would know. Finding it on a island is strange. But he figures since they do bit know where this island is, the gun could be here for a multiplied of reasons . Even though so far the island appears to be abounded, doesn't mean it couldn't have been occupied in the past by other shipwreck survivors or maybe at one point this was a staging area for the army/navy/marines. There is also a distinct possibility that there was a battle on this island during one of the world wars.

The wood, while not rotten is cracked from the rapid heating and cooling of the sand on the beach. The metal is all rusted as well, probably because of the water being constantly on it. Brandon thinks if he fired the gun, it would shatter into pieces.

Brandon knows he needs to tell the captain about this because there might be more weapons or bullets on the Island.

Holding the rifle in both hands, one on the shoulder support or the "butt" of the gun and the other on the barrel with it pointed toward the sky. He moves to talk to the captain to show his interesting new find.

Last edited by cool74 on Sun Jan 08, 2012 3:26 pm; edited 1 time in total

Tony jogs blindly over to Rick and the Captain; they are in a heated argument. He interrupts them the moment he reaches them, talking over them at first and breaking them off. What he has to say is important, whatever they're arguing about is not.

"I don't care what I said;" Rick was saying to the Captain in a harsh tone. "You're the captain, you've got the experience, you should have got us out of there!"

"You're right," Captain Ron agrees; "I shouldn't have listened to you. And believe me that's not a mistake I'll make again. We're in a survival situation now and I'm going to be the one giving orders."

"Fuck that," Rick replies; "I hired you-"

Rick's big brutish cousin arrives then; "There was someone in the woods," he says. "Someone is out there."

There is a moment of silence, neither Rick nor Ron speak. Their silence is broken by one of Ron's crewmen. "The raft is back!" he calls.

They turn in unison to the water where the raft is being pulled ashore, loaded with things.

Within the raft were:

Rope

Lighters

Flares

Matches

Small water purifier

Several cushions from the couch

Knives

several first aid kits.

Vodka

2 cases of Bottled Water

Packages of meat

Seasoning

Pots

Pans

Vegetables

Herbs

Fruits

Blankets

Beers, wines, champagne, liquor

Towels

Sunblock

10 Battery operated lanterns.

Toilet Paper

Feminine hygiene products

Soap

Cigarettes

Soda

Juices

Gatoraid

Pens

Papers

Fire extinguishers

Fishing poles

Flare gun

Axes

Cooking oil.

Much celebration was in order. Until the the three raggae band mates approach them.

"Where's Reggie?" one of them asks.

Leon bows his head. "He wen't down with the yacht," he says. "He didn't get out in time. I'm sorry."

Brandon reaches the Captain, his newfound artifact in hand.

Walking along the beach, Chryssa passes the pretty boy from the yacht; the one wearing Rick's clothes. He is a little scratched up but otherwise in good condition. She passes him as he returns to the beach, following the tracks that Rick's oafish cousin made in the sand.

The farther she gets from the group, the more the hairs on the back of her neck start to raise; goose pimples pop up all over her body. In the woods, a few dozen yards off; she see's what appears to be two people standing and staring at her. They blend in perfectly with the trees, making her second guess their presence.

Jason was tired and finally let himself relax a little bit when they got back to the beach. He walked to one of the shelters and laid down looking out to the ocean thinking someone would be looking for them soon when someone noticed one of the people stranded on the island didn't come back from there trip. With that thought he dozed off.

Not soon after fending off her would-be predator from the Dark Continent of Albion, Chryssa suddenly spots a strange, feminine man emerge from the tree line before her and the two of them cross paths as he heads back toward where the others are gathered. As he passes her, she notices he’s wearing some of Rick’s clothes; she’s seen them many times before thanks to her ex’s diehard refusal to clean his floor of dirty laundry.

“The… shit?” she mutters to no one in particular, pausing to watch him go before shaking her head in bewilderment and continuing on.

In time, the others are little more than specks in the distance. Despite this, Chryssa has the distinct feeling she’s being watched. As she scans her surroundings with half-hearted unease, she stops stone-still when she catches sight of… something in the woods. They look like figures, a pair of people, but it could be her eyes are playing tricks with her; some side effect of the injury to her head, perhaps. She rubs at her brow in frustration and when she looks again, she sees nothing.

Chryssa calls out with a tentative "H-Hello?" but doesn't wait long for an answer (which she doesn't get), as she finds herself overcome with the sudden desire to return to the group very, very quickly. Taking a few, bumbling steps backward, she turns around and jogs back in their direction.

Out of breath Eddie climbs out of the raft bringing the supplies he had with him and putting them with the rest of the recovered supplies besides his backpack which he is currently wearing. He looks around analyzing for the first time who all was on the ship mentally crossing his fingers and hoping that by some miracle that Bear Grylls had been invited on to the ship some how. Not seeing him he decides to grab a carton of cigs, grabs a pack and opens it. Lighting the cigarette he takes a long drag for what seems like the first time in months. Eddie walks over to a fallen tree near the tree line and sits down near enough to see everyone but far enough away to where he isn't in on all the mingling. Still studying the rest of the shipwreckee's he chain smoke's 8 cigarettes in a row.

Fe watches as someone supposedly dressed in Rick's clothing darts past. She also hears Rick and the captain yelling, she finds their facial expressions interesting as they banter back and forth. But they are soon interrupted by Rick's cousin who found something interesting on the back of the island. Fe's mom was deaf, she knows how to read lips and even speak in sign language. The only person who knows this is Sarah, and she is nowhere to be found. Probably off wandering about. Fe shrugs, and then raises a brow as the crew who went to the yacht come back with supplies. She wants to get up and see what they found, but decides to sit and wait. There was time for her to help distribute and ration the supplies later, for now a man approaches her nice little area. He seems to not notice her, but she notices him for he was smoking like a chimney. Eight cigarettes in a row? Not even she smoked that many in less than five minutes, she chuckles and shakes her head.

"Got any more to spare? Or did you smoke the whole pack?" she says to Eddie as she turns to face his direction.

Seeing that his words were basically ignored, Tony takes up the call again. Bothering them as they unload the raft.

"Didn't you hear me?" he asks. "There was someone in the woods. If there's someone out there then we might not even need any of this shit!" He throws his hands up in frustration. "Oh you stupid assholes! I don't even know why I bothered."

He turns away from them and storms off again, keeping within the confines of the beach this time. He cusses and kicks at some sand. His whole life this was the problem; no one ever listened to him. No one regarded Tony as a mastermind. He's just a brute, some muscle head without intelligent thought or emotion.

Brandon, seeing the captain and Rick arguing heatedly. He catches some of the argument before he arrives. "Reggie is an idiot," thinks Brandon,"if worse comes to worse the captain is getting my support."

The arrival of the boat distracts everyone for a moment. Brandon is glad that many of the supplies that are necessary to survive for a while were on the boat.

Jason wakes up from his little nap not feeling all that rested. He sees a fire on the beach with the other survivors gathering around it. "Probably should check this" out he says to himself as he gets up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He walks over to the fire still groggy.

Eddie glanced over, startled at first at the unexpected presence but quickly smiling and saying "Nah i gotta lot on the boat." He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a pack and tosses it to the girl sitting near him. "So whats your name?"

While the arrival of the supplies interrupted the conversation he was about to have with the captain; Brandon knows that the information he has is important. So, now that things have calmed down he heads to the main fire pit. Sitting down next to the captain he says, "Sir I have something to show you."

"Call me Ron," he says. "Or Captain. Sir makes me feel old."

He looks over to what Brandon has in his hands, a rusted weathered old rifle. Looks like something from the WWII era. "Where did you get that?" He asks.

Laughing awkwardly, Brandon sets down the gun and says, "Well, I was going over to take a nap when I tripped over it. It is a gun that was commonly used in WWII. Why it is on the deserted Island? I honestly have no idea. I suggest we start looking around for any type of dwelling these soldiers might have left behind. It could hold something useful."

""Thank you for reporting to me on this. And you're right," the captain says. "We need to explore. Others are saying that there are people out there. From what I can make out, it's sounds like an indigenous tribe. But who knows, there could be much more to this island."

He clears his throat and stares into the flames, speaking so that only Brandon can hear. "I don't know how much you know about survival situations, but if we don't get rescued soon people are going to start losing their shit. They're going to break down. When people break down they behave irrationally. Irrational behavior in a survival situation means death, and not just death for one but for many."

Ron looks him in the eyes. "I'm going to need people on my side to keep things under control. I want to know if you'll join me."

Giving the captain a serious look Brandon whispers back, "I am on your side for now Captain, and trust me when I say," patting his hostlers under the jacket, "On your side is exactly where you want me to be. I think I may watch the tree line for a bit. Never know what is lurking in the jungle."

No refridgeration means that all of the meat needs cooked. Steaks are cut into thin strips and hung near enough to the flames to dry. They'd be done in a few hours and would last longer that way. The rest of the meat, fish, chicken, and pork; are served to the survivors. There is more than enough food to go around.

Captain Ron stands up in front of the fire to address the group. Once he has everyone's attention he speaks.

"We've survived the day," he said to them with easily. "That's an accomplishment, believe it or not." He does a half-laugh and claspes his hands before him. "I won't lie to you, this isn't going to be easy. We need to work together to stay alive. Whatever you're doing, keep your eyes on the sky for planes, and on the sea for boats. We have about twelve flares and after that there's nothing but our fire. And our fire cannot go out."

He smiles the kind of smile that funeral directors give to grievers. "Rest easy for the night, though. Tonight, thanks to the efforts of a few brave men; your bellies are full. This will not be the case in the days to come."

He waves his hand and his crewmen produce buckets of wine that have been uncorked.

"With that having been said; I'd like to make a toast." One of his crewmen, Leon; hands him a bottle. The captain holds it up before him.

"Let us remember those we lost. Samuel, who was lost at sea. The store clerk who sold Mr. Hetley his winning ticket, also lost a sea. And the drummer, Reggie; who died while gathering food and supplies." He raises the bottle a bit higher, blocking his face out entirely. "May we be rescued by morning!"

He brings the wine to his lips and takes a gulp. People clap and cheer, someone lets out a loud "Whoop!". It is a surprisingly optimistic sound. The wine is passed around, ten bottles opened at once and shared between the people.

The guitarist strums idly at his instrument, playing a soft and sad song. The singer dismantles one of Reggies' congo drums, pulling a large bag of marijuana from the unit and rolling up two fat spliffs. He lights them both, passing them to the guitarist and around to the survivors, some of whom ignore and other who partake.

The guitar strums and the singer proves that he can keep steady beat going on the other drum. It gives the camp a mild impression of calm.

But the calm doesn't keep tension at bay for everyone. At the far end of the fire Rick is heard arguing again with Captain Ron. One of his crewmen, a tall well-built man with an ugly scar on his left cheek named Carl; stepped forward and placed his hands lightly on Rick's shoulder; saying something in a low tone that no one else can hear.

"Fuck you," Rick says. "You can't threaten me. I hired you, remember?" The large man says something else inaudible. Rick turns around and storms off towards one of the shelters, sholdering through several people on his way there.

People around the fire are unsurprisingly distressed. Some of them try to make light of the situation, others try to ignore it. But overall the mood is far from light.

As the night wears on, Captian Ron asks for volunteers to stand watch. He wants four people awake at night, two keeping an eye on the trees, one tending the fire, and one watching the sea. He recommends three shifts, each doing about two hours. After that, he says it will be daylight.

He still has a crew of only nine people (ten if you include the recent addition of Brandon).

[OOC: So this is the last real update for this thread. Post some shit, and send your character to bed at the end of the post. Volunteer to help or not. If you wish to converse with a PC or NPC, please message the PC owner or the NPC owner (NPC owner is me, btw). Next week I close out and lock this thread and open Day 2.]

Jason listens to Captain Ron's toast and cheers but he isn't feeling the same way. He can't try and pretend that everything will be okay even after they are rescued. A few have died and those few most likely have families that care for them. He starts to feel a bit depressed as the weed is passed around he takes some and gets a big hit. Passing it to the next person he holds his breath and looks at the sky. After a few seconds he exhales He looks at Captain Ron as he finishes talking and decides that he will take a later shift. He goes and tells Captain Ron with the last few seconds of clarity. After he walks away from everybody and lays in the sand looking at the sky feeling like his head was a big balloon.

As the day turned into night, Fe found herself hanging out with Eddie, the captain's son. He was cool, and fun to talk to. Their conversations ranged from past scars, to tattoos, to zombie killing strategies. And she didn't even notice how much time had flown, it was dark and getting cold. So, they ended up heading back to the rest of the group, only to find bottles of wine being opened and the captain delivering a nice little speech about surviving and making it through this together. A lot shouts, cheers and one whoop followed at the end. Fe merely clapped, because as much as she liked to believe what the captain was saying, she knew better. This many people stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere? Yeah, something was bound to happen eventually.

As she and Eddie stood together, she saw one guy passing around a joint. She laughed and took a nice little hit, when it came to her, then passed it along to Eddie. Things were looking up a little bit, especially when the band started to play some music. She sways with the rhythm as they all stand around sipping wine and eating some nicely cooked food. If this night could last forever, it would be one hell of a night. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. And Fe was loathe to leave Eddie for sleep. He is so easy to talk to, that she didn't realize how much she really missed having a decent conversation with a guy who wasn't trying to get in her pants. Despite her best efforts, with the buzz she was feeling from the wine, and the relaxing part of the weed, she ended up kissing Eddie's cheek before she slipped off into the tent she had built earlier with the help of her girl Sarah. Sarah was already knocked out, wine did that to her, so it wouldn't take long for Fe to sleep. And it didn't.